


virtue

by slowlange



Series: slowlange.comms [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Miya Atsumu, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Incest, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Sibling Incest, Top Miya Osamu, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:47:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28760520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowlange/pseuds/slowlange
Summary: Everything about home was perfect when Atsumu returned from a long string of away games.Everything, except the fact that Osamu has yet to fuck him.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Miya Osamu
Series: slowlange.comms [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076675
Comments: 18
Kudos: 234





	virtue

**Author's Note:**

> for osaatsuu on twitter.
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy this little oneshot :) the twins miss each other when they're away for too long sigh,, i love them

Home felt just like it did before Atsumu left for tours with the Jackals. The distant scent of Osamu’s cooking wafting throughout all the rooms (he never liked to shut doors before he cooked, loved the smell of food no matter how or what was prepared), cat toys scattered all around the living room, the TV humming quietly in the background as they sat at the dinner table. Atsumu enjoyed the moments of stability he could get back after endless away games.

Everything about home was perfect. Everything, except the fact that Osamu has _yet_ to fuck him.

Usually, he’s being attacked the moment he walks in, a pitiful trail of clothes that lead to their shared bedroom left in his wake.

But today when he opened the door, Osamu wasn’t even waiting on the other side. He was in the kitchen, fixing them dinner in his ratty, but humble ‘Onigiri Miya’ apron. Atsumu could feel his exhaustion rippling off his body in waves, more connected to his brother than ever as he embraced him for the first time in nearly two months.

“Hey,” He had breathed against the curve of his neck.

“You’re home!” Osamu gasped in surprise. He craned back to tuck him into his side properly and Atsumu nuzzles expectantly into his warmth. “I didn’t even hear the door open.”

“It’s alright,” Atsumu tipped his head up, lips parted and begging for a kiss, “you look tired.”

Osamu had granted him a small peck then, before answering with what was expected. “Long day at work. Like, _really_ long.”

“Come on. Get out of the kitchen.” He’d urged, borderline begged. That kiss was _barely_ enough. Atsumu was tired and cranky himself, lacking the usual control he had on his desires, as well as his tone. “Just wanna get in bed with you.”

He felt arousal buzzing along every inch of his skin at the mere thought of crawling on top of him, undoing the string of his joggers and dragging them down thick, meaty legs before scrambling to straddle his utterly hot brother, his perfect Osamu, for the first time in months. But Osamu reels him back in an instant.

“I know, I’m sorry, I just really wanted to make something nice for you.”

Atsumu looks down at the pan. Tonkatsu.

“My favorite…” He murmurs.

“I also got some steamed buns from that new place you wanted to try,” Osamu turns, still keeping a firm hold on his waist as he points them out. “You probably walked past the bag, but I figured you would be more hungry than usual.”

He certainly had, and he certainly was. “Thank you, ‘Samu.”

Osamu leans down to press their lips together again. It’s much longer this time, and Atsumu melts with a smile. “Anything for you. I’m glad you’re home.”

Atsumu ate rather quickly after that, leaving him sitting--no, _hanging_ \--on Osamu’s shoulders as he waited for him to finish.

“Just a bit longer, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu takes a relaxed breath before biting into another helping of his tonkatsu. “Don’t you wanna relax? You had a long flight.”

“I’m _horny,_ ‘Samu,” he whines, straightforward with it, “I haven’t been fucked in months.”

“Didn’t you bring your dildo?” He huffs, hiding a slick grin behind a thicker piece of pork. Atsumu isn’t blind. He feels as though he’s being treated like a child that should have _prepared_ for his two months away from Osamu. Which is stupid, when you think about it, because no amount of preparation will ever get him through his weeks away from his touch.

“It’s not the same. You know that.” He snaps.

“Bratty, hm?”

“Can we fuck?”

“I wanna shower first,” Osamu stretches back and lets out a sound of relief while Atsumu groans loudly, hands covering his face angrily.

It went on like that for the rest of the night until Osamu stepped into the shower. He ran through the motions of cleaning the living area at his own pace as if Atsumu wasn’t behind him, practically his shadow. He clung to him as he washed the dishes, didn’t even offer to help, though he should have, thinking back on it. Instead, Atsumu had let his hand dip down into Osamu’s pants to grip at his soft cock.

“Even if you get me hard, I’m not fucking you until later.” He’d said. Atsumu huffed as he removed his hand, resisting the temptation to knock him right in the balls. 

Now, he showers, Atsumu sitting grumpily outside of the tub as he waits for him to finish. The dishes were clean, cat fed, living room as clean (as it ever is), and now all that’s left is the goddamn _shower_ , and then maybe, just maybe, Osamu can throw Atsumu’s leg over his shoulder and fuck him until he can’t walk the next morning.

“You’re quiet,” Osamu calls out from underneath the loud spray of the showerhead. 

“And you’re slow! Hurry up!” Atsumu couldn’t give a shit about the small talk.

“You could join me, you know.”

He isn’t going to at first, stubbornness at the forefront of every decision he makes tonight, but considers the fact that Osamu’s favorite place to fuck, happens to be the very shower he stands in.

Slowly, Atsumu removes his clothes. He’s quiet, because the last thing he wants is Osamu to have the automatic pleasure of success. He makes sure his belt doesn’t make a sound when it hits the ground before shimmying out of his pants and boxers. As he steps out of the pool of his clothes, the smell of Osamu’s shampoo floods his nose and he grins, momentarily.

God, to be home.

-

The Miya twins, when it comes to matters of affection, love to skate along the thin line of gentle care, and ravenous aggression when they can. It’s no different tonight as the previously tempered atmosphere evaporates with the steam from their shower.

Osamu spins him on his stomach with a forceful grip, crushing Atsumu against the mattress and letting his towel fall from his waist in one swift move.

“Not tired anymore?” Atsumu chuckles, welcoming the chill of the sheets beneath him. He turns his head to admire the desperate trail of hickeys he left along Osamu’s collarbone, strategically placed as he attempted to finish soaping himself down. Despite inviting him in the first place, Osamu requested he stop and let him finish. But Atsumu was in no mood to let up, hard from the moment his foot touched the porcelain. _“I’m just having a little fun,”_ he’d said. 

It was enough to finally get them in their bed.

“I’m gonna fuck you until the only word you know is my name,” Osamu growls.

A hard smack lands on his right asscheek and Atsumu yelps before chewing on his lip.

“You goddamn slut.”

 _Oh._ So this is how tonight is going to go.

“‘Samu…” he breathes, cock throbbing and cheeks red before they’ve even begun.

“‘Tsumu, I’m not sure how much you miss me,” Osamu’s voice trails off as he says it, fingertip tracing the exposed underside of Atsumu’s thigh. He trembles as it traverses up to his ass, still tingly from the earlier slap. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“I missed you, ‘Samu,” he breathes, “so much…”

“More.”

“Want you to fill me up,” Atsumu scrambles to form complete thoughts, “want your cock inside of me so fucking bad.”

 _“More_.”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you…” 

Osamu cups his ass roughly, fingertips digging into supple skin, and he gulps before continuing. 

“...On the plane, at games, practice, in my room—”

Another smack, a thousand times harder than before. Atsumu moans loudly this time. 

“Did you _actually_ use the dildo?” Osamu asks, his hand _finally_ easing between Atsumu’s spread legs. He hopes it’s a one-way path to the inside of his ass.

“I _did_.” He answers quickly.

A finger toys at Atsumu’s hole and he pushes back expectantly, because why can’t he just _get to it?_

“And yet you’re just as tight as when you left, if not tighter, huh?”

Well, he didn’t say he used it a _lot._

“Missed your hands…” Atsumu whispers, reaching down to entwine their fingers. “The dildo doesn’t hold me like you do.”

The sudden wave of pure, unadulterated love that washes over Osamu’s features whenever Atsumu goes soft in the middle of dirty talk makes its grand appearance, and inside, Atsumu is glowing. Osamu smiles back at him warmly before leaning down to kiss him.

“Don’t go all mushy on me. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re still a slut.”

A delightful shiver crawls up Atsumu’s spine, winding its way around each crevice as Osamu flips and pulls him forward by the hips. They kiss again, open mouths, teeth clashing together, harsh gasps for air shared between them both. He admires Osamu’s restraint if anything. To wait this long to finally mold back together as the single unit they were destined to be at birth… Atsumu never had the patience. Not when it came to him.

Osamu tugs himself away from Atsumu’s mouth abruptly then, jarring him out of the lull of their kiss.

“‘Samu what _now_?” Atsumu pushes against his chest as he whines, throwing his head back. He huffs out, completely unprepared for the forceful push of two fingers, pistoning deep inside of him.

“Oh oh _fuck—_ ” Atsumu’s legs stretch out wider, thighs flexing at the sudden sensation.

His brother ignores him, favors dragging out sweet whimpers with each twist of his digits. He switches from scissoring and spreading to languid finger fucking, a kiss pressed here and there along where his soft skin stretches. Atsumu’s heart races, eyes squeezed shut as he presses into Osamu’s contrasting touches.

“You’re so fucking _tight_ , ‘Tsumu,” Osamu grins just beneath where he can see, licking along his thigh before just _barely_ scraping his prostate.

“Oh wait--”

“Missed having you like this.” He whispers, curling his finger just to drag it away again.

“ _‘Samu_ \--”

“My perfect little whore.”

The pad of his finger finally jabs at his sweet spot and Atsumu jumps, eyes snapping open before his hands claw at Osmau’s shoulders. His cock is leaking angrily down its base, but he refuses to touch himself until Osamu’s buried inside of him. 

“Oh my god,” he gasps, “fuck me. _Please_ . I can’t _wait_ any longer.”

Osamu laughs. “You hang all over me, pressing your boner into my side every second you’ve been able to get since you arrived home, and you think you’re the one calling the shots?” 

Atsumu’s jaw falls slightly at the statement. He’d have come up with a rebuttal by now if he wasn’t completely under the spell of Osamu’s dominance. His brother’s eyes, stoic as always, burn into his, making him squeamish in his own skin as harsh, yet patient hands massage his waist. 

“You’re lucky,” He says after a beat, pressing his nose into the crook of Atsumu’s neck, “I’m not in the mood for foreplay.”

Osamu presses a kiss to his ear, taking the lobe between his teeth as he lays Atsumu flat on his back. He watches with eager eyes as Osamu lubes his cock up again.

“No condom?” He asks curiously.

“Got everything but those at the store,” Osamu bends down, his dick pressing gently against Atsumu’s sopping hole, “do you mind?”

“Never,” Atsumu hums, wrapping his arms around broad shoulders, “we’ll pick them up tomorrow.”

His brother nods with a smile before aligning himself. Osamu’s cock fills him incredibly well, a stretch that Atsumu didn’t remember the feeling of while he was away. He chokes on a gasp as he pushes further and further until the tip brushes against what feels like the end. They both let out a breath, Osamu’s head and hair falling forward.

“‘Sa--”

He begins without warning, drilling into him sloppily until discovers a menacing pace and positioning. Atsumu’s nails dig into his back as his body is jostled by the force of Osamu’s thrusts. He fucks him like a wild animal, starving for months, and it’s now that his desperation matches Atsumu, back when he’d just returned.

“Got nothing to say now?” He stops momentarily and Atsumu groans.

“‘Samu _stop!_ Come on--”

He slams back down into him in response and Atsumu’s voice, filled with irritation and desperation, is stolen from his throat and clasped in Osamu’s fist. His hands slip from where they rest, falling to grip on strong biceps. Osamu grunts above him, grounding his knees further into the mattress with furrowed brows.

“Yes,” Atsumu moans. “Right there.”

“I can’t stop,” he heaves before slowing to drill down deep, stilling himself inside of Atsumu before inching out and doing it all over again. “It’s too good, fuck, Atsumu _fuck—_ ”

“Don’t stop.” Atsumu can already feel the beginnings of his orgasm creeping to the edge. “I’m gonna come.”

It’s a shame their first time will be so quick. But it feels in character for them, chasing so far they’re never able to savor the moment. Atsumu had hoped they’d change those habits by now, but they’re cursed to fall into old habits over and over. It’s alright, though. 

Osamu slams against his ass two, three more times before spilling seed into him with a low grunt. He pants into Atsumu’s neck before reaching down and wrapping his hand around his cock.

“Need help?” he says with a breathless chuckle, wrapping his hand over Atsumu’s quivering one. Weakly, but with everything he has, he turns to connect their lips. Together, they stroke him to his finish, Atsumu sees stars before he paints Osamu’s chest. As he tries to catch his breath and control the tears that threaten to spill down his rosy cheeks, he can’t help but laugh at Osamu’s exasperated expression.

“You look surprised,” Atsumu giggles, to which he can only sigh.

“I don’t think I’ve ever finished that fast. Like ever.”

“Are you upset?”

He purses his lips, running a hand through his hair before saying quietly, “Kind of. I wish it had lasted longer.”

“Me too.” Atsumu reaches up, rubbing a gentle thumb against his cheek, “But it’s okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We have tomorrow, after all.”

And Osamu smiles warmly at that, kissing him again, and again, and again until they’ve eased back into the mattress and their hands begin to roam once more.

Atsumu, with everything in his heart, wishes he never had to leave again, so long as Osamu wanders in the halls and lays in their bed.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/slowlange) for more! thank you for reading!


End file.
